Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  Chris let his head drop to his chest for a moment and suppressed the clenching in his gut. She didn't want to tell her parents about them? Was she embarrassed that she was with him? “You haven't told them you're seeing someone?” He tried to keep his voice unconcerned, but it came out a little strangled, especially on the last word.

  Megan raised her eyes again, her face twisted in dismay. “It's not like that, Chris.” She pressed her lips together, her nostrils flaring, and gave her head a little shake. “I don’t talk to them much in general. I don't tell them about my life. It's exhausting to constantly try to fend off their disapproval. The only reason they know my major is because I registered for my first semester before I moved out and they saw the declaration forms. They don't know that I have a marketing minor, even, so that I can learn how to make it as a solo artist. They don't teach that stuff in the art department, you know.” She gave him another little smile, but it still looked forced.

  Nodding, Chris let his head drop again. He felt stupid for being so upset about her not telling her parents about them. Her reasons made sense, but the disappointment churning in his gut wouldn't go away. Megan's hands on his chest had him lifting his head, looking down into her brown eyes.

  “Hey. Do you tell your parents everything? Have you told them about us?” she asked softly.

  “Yes.” His voice croaked, dammit. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, I told them a while ago.”

  The sincerity in her eyes turned to surprise for just a moment. “Oh.” She apparently hadn't expected him to say that. Why wouldn't he tell his parents about her? They were together pretty much anytime they were both free. It would be hard to tell his parents anything without her coming up at some point.

  His eyes widened as he realized what she was getting at. She didn't tell her parents anything. At all.

  “So what do you talk about with your parents?” He’d heard her talk to her mom on the phone once or twice, so he knew she hadn’t broken off contact altogether.

  She shrugged. “Not much. They try to guilt me into moving back home or changing my major to something they think is more suitable like nursing or elementary ed, and I make appropriate noncommittal noises for a few minutes and then we hang up. I try to keep conversations as short as possible so they know I'm alive and well, but I don't tell them anything about my life. It's not worth the hassle.”

  He nodded. Cleared his throat. “Okay. I get it.” Kinda.

  Her eyes searched his face with something like wonder. “Do you really tell your parents everything?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Even that you're not planning on graduating?”

  He sucked in a breath. No, he hadn't told them that yet. He knew they'd be disappointed, and he couldn't figure out how to tell them. It didn't seem like a good phone conversation topic.

  “What?” Matt shouted, piercing their little bubble and reminding Chris they weren’t alone. “Is she serious? You're really not graduating? I know you said something about that a few weeks ago, but you've been studying lately so I thought you'd changed your mind. Why the fuck aren't you graduating?”

  Chris ran a hand over his face. He'd been avoiding this conversation with Matt on purpose. There were enough people nagging him about this shit. He didn't need one more. “Thanks, Megan. Way to throw me under the bus.”

  She grinned at him, unrepentant, and moved back to the couch. With a snort, he turned back to Matt. “Yeah, she's serious. At this point I'm not going to graduate.”

  Matt stared at him, stone-faced. “Okay. And your answer to the last question? Why the fuck not?”

  “Why bother?” Chris tried to act nonchalant, like it didn't matter, but his gut churned, and he felt sick thinking about it. Since he'd started studying with Megan, he'd begun to wonder what it might take to graduate in the spring. But he'd need to pass this semester, and even with the studying he'd been doing, he still wasn't sure he could pull it off.

  “Why bother?” Matt scrubbed his hands over his face and muttered to himself. Chris couldn't make out what he was saying, but Megan seemed to find it funny judging by the look on her face. Finally, Matt calmed down enough to talk intelligibly. “Dude. You've been here for almost four and a half years. You're just going to throw it away? Seriously?”

  Chris looked away. “I’m not sure I can make it happen. I think my grades have slipped too far this semester.”

  “I could help you if you want.” Chris and Matt both swiveled to look at Megan where she sat perched on the arm of the couch. She was looking at Chris. “Find out from your professors this week what you'd need to do to pass. We can make it happen if you’re serious. We can plan out what you need to do to graduate in May.”

  Chris sucked in a breath and thought about it. “Really? You think I can do it?”

  Megan nodded. “Yeah. We're not quite halfway through. Unless you've failed every single thing, you should be able to pull a passing grade. Maybe some of your professors will let you redo stuff that you've failed since you miss so many classes for football. That might work in your favor. Your coaches care about your grades, so if it looks like you're failing anything, see if they can help you work something out. If you're serious, I think we could make it work.”

  Hope blossomed in Chris's chest at the determination in Megan's eyes. She really believed he could do it. Most people just assumed he was a dumb jock. Academics had never been his thing, and the only reason he’d gone to college at all was so he could play football. But if she thought he could do it, maybe he could.

  Then maybe she could help him figure out what to do with his life after graduation, because he had no fucking clue. But hope was a powerful motivator, and he had some for the first time in too long.

  “Okay.” He nodded once. “Okay, I'll see what needs to be done.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Thanks for letting me come hang out tonight. I needed to escape.” Megan plopped down on the old couch she used to share with Abby. She'd come over to Abby’s new apartment after classes on Thursday evening. “What did you tell Lance?”

  Abby picked up the remote for the DVD player. “Just that we needed a girls' night. He said he'd go hang with the guys. They'll probably fart and drink beer and play video games. I'm sure they'll all have a blast.”

  Laughing, Megan grabbed a handful of popcorn. “If I'd known it was that easy, I'd have insisted on this sooner.”

  “So, what are you escaping from?” Abby asked as she started the movie. “Is everything okay?” Worry seeped into her question despite her attempt at nonchalance.

  “Yeah, everything's fine. It's just been a busy week.” Abby looked at her expectantly, waiting for more. Megan let out a sigh. “Chris said that I could help him come up with a plan to graduate, and, y'know, actually pass his classes. All that on top of my regular work load and tutoring schedule. He's more behind than I realized.”

  Abby blinked a couple times. “I didn't know Chris was in danger of not graduating.”

  “Yeah, I guess he'd decided to not even try anymore. He barely went to his classes the first few weeks. Just enough to not get dropped for too many absences.” Megan tried not to sound too judgmental. But at the same time, she really couldn’t believe how bad he’d let things go. And so close to the end. Why just give up like that?

  At least he’d accepted her help now, before it really was too late.

  “Wow.” Studious and conscientious Abby sounded shocked. Megan didn’t blame her. “Is he going to be able to turn things around?”

  Rubbing her eyes, Megan out another tired sigh. “Yeah, I think so. He's been going more lately since I make him study with me, so he's not as behind as he would've been otherwise.”

  Abby threw her arm around Megan's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Aw, you're a good influence on him. That's so sweet.”

  Megan threw popcorn at her. “Shut up.”

  “Hey!” Abby protested, picking up a few kernels and throwing them back. “Don't mak
e a mess on my couch!”

  “You deserved it,” Megan said, sticking out her tongue. “And anyway, it was our couch first.”

  “Like that matters. Just because you used to be part-owner of the couch doesn't mean you can make it messy now.” Abby paused, her attention pulled back to Mean Girls playing on the TV. They'd both seen it a million times, so they didn't need to pay attention. After a minute she refocused on Megan. “Seriously, though. I'm glad. He really is a good guy. I'd hate to see him give up on himself. I'm glad you're a good influence on him. How did you get him to agree to try anyway?”

  Megan snorted. “Chris got jealous that I was sketching Matt for my figure drawing class.”

  “Who knew Chris could be so possessive?” Abby snarked.

  “I know, right? Anyway, it came up that my parents generally disapprove of me. I mentioned that we barely talk and that I hadn't told them that I was living with the two of them, much less that Chris and I are … well, whatever it is that we are.”

  Abby's eyes narrowed, and her gaze sharpened on Megan. “Whatever you are? I thought it was pretty clear by now.”

  Shrugging, Megan tried for indifference, but the effect was undercut by her refusal to meet Abby's eyes. She didn’t want to get into that right now, though, so she chose to ignore the statement. “He was upset that I hadn't told my parents about him and said he'd told his parents about me, which surprised me, but when I asked if he'd told his parents he wasn't graduating, he got all quiet.” She looked up at Abby, suppressed laughter in her voice. “Man, Matt was pissed when he found out Chris was just going to drop out after this semester.” Abby's lips were compressed, and Megan could tell she wanted to say something, but she kept going before Abby could jump in. “So, I told him I'd help him, and he agreed.” She reached for a handful of popcorn and returned her attention to the movie.

  “He told his parents about you?”

  Megan lifted one shoulder, still eating popcorn. “That's what he said. Weird, huh?”

  “It's something alright,” Abby agreed.

  Holding her breath, Megan waited for Abby to say something else about it, and let out a relieved sigh when she didn't.

  “Is that the first time you told him about your parents?”

  Megan shrugged. “Yeah.” She gave Abby a pointed look. “You know I don't like talking about them, and,” a smirk split Megan's face, “we don't exactly do a lot of talking, if you know what I mean.” Megan snickered at the look of disgust on Abby's face.

  “TMI, friend. TMI.” Abby gave her an acerbic look. “Maybe you guys should try talking a little more. Shouldn't your boyfriend know the details about your family issues?”

  “Ah, yes. Well, that was kind of my point earlier. I'm not sure if Chris even considers himself my boyfriend, so … yeah.” Once again, Megan tried and failed to keep the emotion out of her voice. It bugged her that she didn’t know what to call Chris, how to think of him. But she worried that if she brought it up, he’d freak out and call everything off. Her insides froze at the thought of sharing a house with him and seeing him every day after he ended things between them. God, that would be awful. She didn’t know if she’d be able to handle it.

  They had a good thing going. She didn’t see any reason to screw it all up for the sake of a label.

  Abby stopped the movie they were mostly ignoring anyway. “Wait, what? You guys have been together for like a month. Why wouldn't he consider himself your boyfriend? Did you break up? Is that why you're really here?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Megan started picking at the arm of the couch, pulling off little bits of fuzz where it had pilled. “We just have kind of a casual arrangement. We're exclusive with each other, but neither of us have used the words boyfriend or girlfriend. Like I said, we don't talk a whole lot, and when we do, I'm not going to bring up something that's more than likely going to have him running for the hills.” When Abby didn't answer, Megan stopped picking at the couch and looked at her.

  Abby tugged at her lower lip, her eyes on the TV, but unfocused. Finally she pulled herself out of her thoughts and faced Megan. “Let's walk through this. You and Chris are sleeping together, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I don't just mean having sex. I mean actually sleeping in the same bed every night.”

  “When he's not out of town, yeah.” Megan wrinkled her brows, not sure where Abby was going with this.

  “Okay. And you're exclusive, meaning neither of you is dating or having sex with anyone else, right?”

  “Yeah. I insisted on that from the beginning.”

  Abby arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so you can talk about your relationship with him that much, but you can't figure out if he's your boyfriend or not?” Megan glared at her, but Abby ignored it. “Do you do things besides just have sex? I mean, I know you said you don't talk much, but surely you don't just have sex. Right?”

  Megan laughed. “No, we do other things. He hangs out with me while I do homework and at least pretends to do homework as well. If he's going to graduate, he'll have to do more than just pretend, though.” She waved a hand. “Anyway. We have dinner together sometimes, and the three of us hang out and watch movies or play video games every once in a while. Between practices and away games, they're gone a lot, though.”

  “I hate to break it to you,” Abby snarked, “but I think most people would say he's your boyfriend.”

  Megan grabbed another handful of popcorn, spilling some with the force of her hand diving into the bowl, frustrated with her friend’s insistence that Chris was her boyfriend. “What's the big deal? Why does everything need a label? You refused to call Lance your boyfriend for like two months.” She hated how defensive she sounded, but she couldn’t help it.

  Abby shrugged. “That was different. He was leaving, and I had no expectation of him coming back. I was trying to protect myself.”

  “That worked out really well, didn't it?”

  Abby threw a handful of popcorn at Megan.

  Picking a kernel off her shirt, Megan popped it into her mouth and raised her eyebrows. “What happened to not making a mess of your couch?”

  “I said you couldn't make a mess of it. It's my couch. I can cover it in popcorn if I want.” Abby stuffed her mouth full of popcorn, chewing thoughtfully. “You can't compare your relationship with Chris to mine with Lance, though,” she declared after she swallowed. “The fundamental basis for the relationship is different.”

  Megan sighed and glared at Abby again. “I came here to get away from the headaches of my life, not have you add to them.”

  “Well, one thing's the same at least.”

  “And what's that?”

  “You're in denial as much as I was.”

  Megan threw popcorn back at Abby, who laughed and turned the movie back on. Abby was right, though. She was denying the depths of her feelings about Chris. She could barely acknowledge them herself. There was no way she'd tell Chris how she felt, so why bother telling anyone else?

  She'd learned over the years that there was no use voicing your desire for something that couldn't happen. It wouldn't change anything, and it only made you hurt more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A wolf-whistle sounded from the direction of the kitchen when Megan walked out of her bedroom. Matt stood there in a snug fitting vest and cargo pants, a toy bow in one hand, and a quiver of arrows sticking out over his shoulder. “Looking good.”

  “Get your own woman!” Chris pushed a laughing Matt out of his way with his Captain America shield to get out of the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, Chris’s eyes raked over Megan in her black skinny jeans, knee high boots, and fitted black leather jacket. She'd used some washout dye to turn her dark brown curls auburn to complete her Black Widow costume. It wasn't quite the right shade, but it was the closest she could get. Pulling the toy gun out of the holster on the cargo belt slung around her hips, she blew across the tip.

  His eyes darkened, and he stalked across the room, pulling her tigh
t against him. Megan chuckled when her hands encountered the fake foam muscles under the fabric of his costume. “I don't think you need the extra help with the physique.”

  He grinned down at her. “Thanks for the compliment, but I couldn't find one without the muscles. You ready to go?”

  At her nod, he pulled her in for a kiss before they all piled into Matt's car. They'd played rock, paper, scissors earlier to decide who would be the DD, and Matt had lost. They were on their way to the team's annual costume party that they held every October. This year they got to have it on Halloween, since it fell on the Saturday of the only weekend before Thanksgiving that they didn't have a game.

  Megan had been looking forward to it since they'd all decided to go as characters from The Avengers. She'd never been part of a group costume. When the guys had suggested it, she'd been doubtful. She hadn't seen the movie before, which had made them groan in disbelief and determined to remedy the situation at the first opportunity. She'd enjoyed the movie more than she'd expected to, and started trying to figure out how to put together a costume for Black Widow almost as soon as the movie had ended.

  Chris had sprung for a store-bought costume, saying that it would take too much time and too much work to put one together himself. She and Matt had managed to find most of the stuff they needed at thrift stores. She’d scored with the jacket. It was perfect—black leather that zipped up the front with an almost non-existent stand up collar. It had only cost twenty dollars, and she could wear it after Halloween too. The other bonus was that she wouldn't freeze in this costume on the cold, rainy night.

  They arrived at the same house where the pool party had been at the beginning of the semester, the party already well underway. So much had changed since she'd been here last. The weather meant there wouldn’t be any swimming tonight and more of the house was open for the partiers. Like last time, there were a variety of drinks available, plus bowls of Halloween candy placed all around.